


Love Bug Express (Mail Delivery Service) - Part One

by ladydragon76



Series: Love Bug [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Rating: PG-13, character: bob, character: ratchet, character: rung, character: sunstreaker, genre: fluff, genre: humor, verse: idw, warning: au, warning: canon- what canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3325661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Thank you for choosing Love Bug Express for your delivery needs.  Our Delivery Specialist is the best bug in the business.  No one offers a better price, attention to detail, or is as dedicated to customer care as the Love Bug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Bug Express (Mail Delivery Service) - Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thoughtsdemise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/gifts).



> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** Love Bug  
>  **Rating:** PG-13  
>  **Characters:** Bob, Crew of the Lost Light  
>  **Warnings:** Sugar Shock?  
>  **Notes:** This series commissioned by ThoughtsDemise, and too fun to write! Thank you, darling! I hope you like it!

Sunstreaker hated Earth and everything about it, but when someone -he didn’t know who- had suggested celebrating some love holiday he remembered from the organic cesspool, Rodimus had just about burst a line in excitement. He immediately decreed it holiday time and encouraged everyone to participate by sending love notes and gifts. Sunstreaker wasn’t the love note sort, but it did give him the chance to do something he should have done ages ago. He wrote a letter to thank Ratchet for everything he had done over the years for the frontliner. The medic didn’t get nearly enough appreciation, and Sunstreaker couldn’t even count how many times his life had been saved by the mech. He deserved to hear the words, and this gave Sunstreaker a way to do it without sounding like he’d glitched out or gone soft.

Proofreading done, Sunstreaker looked down at Bob with a bit of a grin. Antennae wobbled forward, optics brightening at the attention. The gifts were supposed to be anonymous, at least at first, but Sunstreaker wanted Ratchet to know it was him. “Want a job, bug?”

Bob’s helm tipped to the side, and then he stood.

Sunstreaker pulled the info chip from the datapad he’d typed up his message on and held it out toward Bob. “I want you to take this to Ratchet. Ratchet. White and red mech?” Bob’s helm tipped the other way, two secondary hands slowly reaching toward the chip. “Loud mech that spoils you rotten with snuggles when he thinks no one’s looking. That Ratchet.”

Bob’s antennae perked forward, his optics flaring, and his aft end waggled back and forth. He scooted closer, and reached for the info chip, closing little, dexterous fingers around it as carefully as he could.

“Good boy, Bob.” Sunstreaker stood and walked to the door. “Take it straight to Ratchet, then come back.” He poked the keypad and the door slid open. “Gack!”

“Oh!” Getaway yelped too, jumping back from the door. “Heh. Sorry. Sorry about that.” He peeked around Sunstreaker and pointed a finger at Bob when he spotted the crouching insecticon. “I just came by to see if I could borrow your buddy there.”

“Fraggit, Getaway! And what do you mean borrow?”

“Borrow. For a delivery. If, you know, you think he can manage it?” Getaway held up an info chip of his own. “For Skids, but if I try to deliver it, then he’ll know it’s me, and I… Well. Secret, right? Part of the whole game?”

Sunstreaker glanced down at Bob, and then shrugged. “Why not?” He took the chip, and squatted in front of the insecticon. “This one is for Skids. Skids.” One finger tapped on Bob’s fingers where they curled around the note for Ratchet, and he said, “Ratchet.” The new chip was placed in Bob’s other little hand, and Sunstreaker repeated, “Skids,” while tapping it. He did it again, tapping and repeating the names, but he wasn’t at all sure Bob was getting it. The insecticon looked back at forth between his hands, chirped, and then tucked them in close under his body, so that was going to have to be good enough.

“How much does he understand?” Getaway asked.

“Enough, I hope.” Sunstreaker stood and shooed Getaway back. “Go, Bob. Good boy. Ratchet and Skids. Then come back.”

“Thanks, Bob,” Getaway called, but Bob was already scuttling around the corner and out of sight.

Bob knew Ratchet. He wasn’t as sure about Skids, but he thought he knew who the mech meant having seen Getaway with him plenty in the energon room. He knew where to find Ratchet, so Bob headed there first. His left secondary hand tightened just a tiny bit on the chip he clutched. _Ratchet_.

Ratchet.

Up the lift. Down the hall. Right turn. Left turn. Ratchet was close.

But then Bob spotted the orange mech. The one that _always_ had treats and was so nice to him. He galloped over with a happy chitter for a greeting, aft end waggling hard enough to make a scraping sound against the floor.

“Well, hello, Bob. How are you?” Rung crouched to pet the insecticon and, smiling, held out a treat stick. “Here you are.”

In his excitement, Bob reached with both little hands for the treat and crammed it into his mouth. It wasn’t until the chips tinked to the floor that he realized his mistake. Antennae flattened back, and he hunkered down. Oh no.

“Oh my. What are these?” Rung picked up the info chips, and after a quick look at them, held them back out to Bob. “They don’t look damaged. It’s alright.”

Bob stood a little, clicking softly as he took the chips. Ratchet. Skids. He was a good boy.

With one last warble to Rung, Bob trundled off to find Ratchet.

~ | ~

Sunstreaker opened his door when the chime sounded. He was surprised to see Ratchet there, and even more surprised when the medic threw his arms around his shoulders and kissed him full on his mouth. He’d expected a comm call maybe, but to be smothered in kisses?

“You glitch! You absolute glitch!” Ratchet cried, then continued showering Sunstreaker’s face in kisses. “Don’t fragging wait for some stupid holiday to say things like this.”

“Got my note, huh?” Sunstreaker asked as he stumbled back and fell onto his berth. He gasped as Ratchet climbed right up over him. “Pits, Ratch, if I’d known-”

“Shut up,” Ratchet said, and then kissed Sunstreaker again, long and lingering, and oh so frelling soft and sweet. Holy slag. “Love you, you pain in my aft.”

Sunstreaker blinked, face flushing hot. He pushed Ratchet back by his shoulders. “You do?” No one but the bug loved him, and here Ratchet was saying it and kissing him over a little thank you note? Frag everything else. He didn’t care about why, he was going to hang onto this as long as Ratchet let him.

“Have for ages. Primus, Sunny!” Ratchet sat up, aft on Sunstreaker’s thighs as he scrubbed at his face. He was shaking a bit, and huffed a slight laugh. “I’ll transfer your primary medical care to First Aid, ok?”

“Uh. Ok.”

“Good. Then nothing’s stopping this.” Ratchet leaned back down and captured Sunstreaker’s lips again, more passionately this time.


End file.
